The Man I am...
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Posted:Jan 17, 2006 3:59 am
Last Updated:Mar 5, 2006 9:28 pm 9996 Views
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The following description is of my self-image. I've thought about how my friends see me, and how my professional associates see me as well. It seems that each segment of life has its own click of friends and each sees you in a different light. My business associates see me as an aggressive entrepreneur, my friends see me as "the artist", my neighbors see me as a young eccentric that helps whenever asked and whom delivers cookies at Christmas. My family sees me as a traditionalist, conservative, old fashioned family man. I see myself as all of the above mentioned, and much more.
Some of my actions might seem old fashioned to some, chivalrous to some, or pig-headed blatant chauvinism! LOL That cracks me up!! I was yelled at once for opening a door to the restaurant. She quite emphatically stated, "...I can open the door for myself, I have an arm that works just fine! Don't be such a chauvinist pig!".....Well, I can tell you that my jaw just about dropped and I was quite disgruntled for sometime that evening. That was until we returned home and she received a good spanking for being so rude. I feel it's my right as a man to be able to open the door, or carry the groceries, or light the cigarette, to let her order first while out dining (I will always admonish the wait staff if they even attempt to take my order first....all good servers know this as a very old tradition) Ladies first. I don't think a woman should have to be out under the car changing the oil in the car. Now I'm not saying that a woman couldn't do a better then perfect job at changing the oil, I'm not saying you couldn't change the oil if you felt so inclined, if you had a fantasy of crawling under the car to get covered in car oil and play with wrenches.....then I would be the first one to give you a case of car oil and a new tool box!!!
I think of myself as a romantic and I've been labeled in the past. I find great joy in sexual expression. The teasing and playing with each other's mind. Tantalizing thoughts to carry you through the day or to get you stirred up while home.
Coming home to find a trail of rose petals through the house with a note on the floor. The petals lead to the bath where the candles are lit and the bath is drawn, the water scented with rose oil and petals floating on the surface. I undress you and help you into the bath so that I can wash you. Afterwards, you are brought to the bed where there are more petals emanating sweet smells. A full body rub with warm oil to relax you.....and then you drift off to sleep......
Perhaps a surprise picnic where I kidnap you from work. Curious little notes stuffed into your panty drawer. You never know where you will find notes when I'm around...they make nice little surprises to bring a smile.
I may just wait for a 3 day weekend and pack your bag for you and have everything in the car ready to go....so when you get home from work on Thursday, I give you a kiss and tell you to go tinkle and then we are off...you wouldn't find out where we were going until we go there. I love spontaneous trips....perhaps to a nice bed and breakfast. I prefer bed and breakfasts to hotels...they cost about the same and the service is so much better.
I like to be the one to make the fire. If it's cold and a fire needs to be made. It’s the guy’s job to get up while the princess stays warm and comfy. That's the protector in me. If there is a strange noise in the house, then it's the guy’s job to throw the dresser in front of the bedroom door and dial 911...  If the firewood needed to be split, the garbage needs to be taken out, the plumbing needs to be fixed, the door squeaks, the car needs repairs, etc...
I think part of the nurturing in my mind comes from the most basic gestures. A random hug as you walk through the room, bringing me coffee in the morning, running a bath when I'm sore... (I've never been given a bath, but have given many), cooking dinner, demanding cuddle time! Love to cuddle...snuggle...squish...hug...hold.....
When I'm out in public, my persona changes to that of a more serious nature. I walk tall which is a habit from the military, and I am generally clean shaven. Without trying to sound conceited, I notice woman "checking me out" all the time, especially when I wear my sunglasses. Its funny when I wear them inside, they can’t see where I'm looking so, I can watch everyone more closely. LOL It's just very funny to watch sometimes. I'm not very good at picking up those signals that most women give off...or flirting. I always think that it's just someone being friendly. My buddies are always saying "Man, she was just flirting with you." or "Didn't you pick up those signals"....so, that's something that I'm trying to work on.
I try very hard not to curse or use foul language, but it's a tough battle. It is rare for me to use a bad word unless I smash my finger with a hammer or break a toe by stubbing it in the middle of the night. I had surgery on my toe once and was in the section of the bookstore getting reference for a mural and a book fell off the shelf and landed on the toe I just had the operation on. Well, needless to say, I said "Shhhiiiiitttttttt....but the "Sh" was loud and I trailed it off because I remembered where I was. One of the parents gave me a horrible look and I left without explaining. The book busted the toe open a bit so it started bleeding again. My language also seems to go out the window for a bit after I talk to my family and friends back home in New York...I'm accustomed to hearing expressions like: "Get the fuck outta here" "Forgettabout it" "Are you fuckin kiddin me" "Heyy you Stugatz, How the fuck ya been!" "Hey Fucker, good to see ya!"....etc. etc. etc. Just watch an episode of the Sopranos and All in the family...that's a good cross descriptive.
An image I see played out in my head quite often is one of me coming in from outside after some type of chore. I'm dirty and covered in mud. My wife/girlfriend/... is there to greet me. After undressing me, she takes me to the bath that is waiting and she gives me a bath....how nurturing and how blissful... a wonderful thought. (I'll write more later)
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Filling in the gaps
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Posted:Jan 10, 2006 10:02 am
Last Updated:Mar 5, 2006 9:28 pm 10551 Views
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I've been up since 3am and it's now 5am as I sit and contemplate the volumes that I've left out. I read all that I wrote so far and there is so much more to share. I mentioned that I bake and garden and those aren't generally associated with a masculine man in most peoples eyes. Well, I also sew! LOL
I started learning to fight as a and then studied martial arts on and off. My love for cooking came out of necessity rather then by choice. I had to learn to cook for myself at an early age and had thoughts of going to culinary school when I was younger. I started baking as therapy because it was relaxing and the results made everyone smile, so I generally bake at Christmas as gifts. The gardening didn't start until I bought my first house. I saw a few magazine pictures of tropical gardens and thought it would be nice to build one in the backyard. In the past 3 years, I've put in nearly 2000 plants. I've learned quite a bit about plants and gardening in the process. I think I lost about 200 plants in the process of learning... LOL And about the sewing, the family business was the garment industry. Grandfather owned a lingerie factory and both grandma and mom are master seamstresses. Back then, I was supposed to go to the Fashion Institue and take over the family business, but had my mind set on the study of medicine. The factory is long gone now, but I spent my summers working at the factory.
I joined the Army when I was 23 and was 11C Infantry/Mortars. Spent the tour in Germany and Ft. Benning Georgia. I traveled every chance that I had and saw most of Europe.
I'm generally a jovial fellow and always smiling because I can find the smallest things to smile about. The sunset, the sun rising, birds taking a bath in the yard, someone opening the door for the elderly, the look on the girl scouts face when I order a dozen boxes of cookies! (I still have some left over from last year, but it pushes up the anty for the neighbors.. LOL ) It seems that I'm always out and running about helping someone do something, or taking care of someone elses problems. My new title for 2006 is "Nobody 's problem solver". (the big hearted guy in me will probably always help if I really see the need, but I'm going to try to let others handle their own issues this year.)
I enjoy fixing things around the house. Ripping out walls and redoing woodwork, faux painting, murals, and anything else that might fall under "fixin it up". I'm pretty good at most of the things and getting better at others, but sometimes it costs me a lot more then it would to have called a professional in the first place.  Like the time I was nailing in piece of molding...I swung the hammer back to drive the nail..and put a hole in the ceiling. So I had to go back to get more supplies to fix the new hole. The time I fixed the chandelier but lost my balance and drove the ladder through a small part of the wall... (I try to keep extra patching materials around just in case...Murphy's law.) I go to the home depot classes to learn how to do things on my own. I can't stand paying someone to do something that I can do for myself. If I do pay a professional, part of the agreement that I always make is to let me help so that I can learn and do it for myself the next time.
That's it for now....I'll fill in more gaps as I go along. The next entry will discuss my dominant side more throughly and how I see my self-image as a man. Thanks for reading and feel free to leave comments.
P.S. a picture of a part of the gardens in the back yard. I also built all the pergolas, arbors and layed the sidewalk.
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What's scary and what's not... on ALT
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Posted:Jan 9, 2006 4:29 pm
Last Updated:Jan 10, 2021 8:09 pm 11273 Views
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When I'm thinking intellectually about the varied interests and activities of those on this site, I don't think anything is scary. It's all about everyone finding that internal craving, yearning, or drive and expressing it in their own way. I don't pass judgement on anyone's likes or dislikes, I have plenty of my own to sort out and analyze without worrying about someone else. The only person's yearnings that I care about more then my own is my partners; referring to partners past. I feel that having unsatisfied desires can drain you of energy if unattended. A relationship needs both partners to feel unbridled satisfaction when it comes to expressing themselves sexually. I've always been the teacher....a guiding hand. The journey into the imagination can bring wonderful bounty. (side note: sometimes, the words and sentences come to me in flurries and they don't settle down long enough to grab a hold of and spit out here. I'm just going to move on to the things on ALT that scare me..."the little me" and the "Big Me"....
Ok, the little me has been searching on alt this past few weeks for Dominant woman or switches that have diapers/infantilism checked off on the interest list. OMG.....the little me nearly ran back into the closet to cover himself up with coats. I thought I might find a nurturing type that didn't want to stick anything in my butt!! (I nearly fell out of my chair when I read that...) And the names...that's enough to scare anyone...Mommybitch, Bendoverbaby, PsychoMom, MistressMommysadist, etc.... (names are made up to protect the innocent, but if by chance one of the names up there actually does belong to someone...my apologies...it is purely coincidence as I am only using the names as an example.)... One profile was talking about how nurturing and loving and cuddling ...then towards the end it said something about the daily ritual of sticking something in my butt!! I shivered and quickly closed that profile...how scary is that...goodness. Another profile wanted to nurture me and beat me!! The "Big me" would never let the "little me" get hurt ever again. So, no beatings, no chaining, and I'm domestically challenged and not looking for a job as a maid. Those profiles made me shake even more.... It seems that a majority of the woman interested in putting diapers on a man...also want to turn him into a sissy, or a maid, or servant in girls clothes, etc.... (opening up the closet to show off all the BLUE clothes I have! Enough said.) The little me has been realizing that it's going to be quite the task to find someone to accept him.
I mentioned my fear of being beaten, but I do realize that spanking is also an interest. I've never been spanked but I think about it when I'm in little mode. I'm sure I'm willing to try most things with a loving partner, as long as it's a nurturing environment. I am not the one to go to the Dungeon dressed in leather. I think about breaking rules and getting turned over someone's knee and spanked. I guess my thoughts on that might run along the lines of domestic discipline. It's quite late and I can see that this entry has some gaps, so I'll try to patch them in the morning.
"If you spend all of your time worrying about tommorow, then you don't have any time left to enjoy today."
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The year of 2005....the year of Murphy's Law!
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Posted:Jan 8, 2006 7:16 pm
Last Updated:Mar 5, 2006 9:28 pm 9157 Views
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"If anything can go wrong, it will..." So says Major Edward A. Murphy,Jr., noted rocket scientist in the 40's and 50's. There are a few adaptations of Murphy's Law, but they all share the same sense of defeat..but Oh..they make me laugh out loud reading them. Here are just a few: "If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the one to go wrong", "If anything just cannot go wrong, it will anyway...", "If you perceive that there are four possible ways in which something can go wrong, and circumvent these, then a fifth way, unprepared for, will promptly develop", "If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something", " Whenever you set out to do something, something else must be done first."...ok...that's enough...the last one really made me laugh. This journal entry is going to be general and brisk. I'm very excited to start a new year and I do it with a smile because I know that there is no way that I could have a repeat performance. I don't think I could handle it. LOL
Last Christmas 2004, my grandmother who is 86, wasn't doing well and was being looked after by my mother. They didn't get along well, but she had an apartment of her own attatched to my mother's house. I'm the one in the family that gets along best with grandma, we had a certain understanding of each other that nobody else shared. I flew up there to get her situated with homecare, nurses, ect...they talked of a nursing home. Many years ago, I made a promise to my grandmother that she would never end up in a nursing home. We talked about it several times and I always asked her when she was moving in with me...it made her laugh. I moved grandma down to Florida with me Dec 23, 2004. I painted the study baby blue and had a hospital bed waiting. I had quite a bit of experience in healthcare. We signed grandma up with a privat doctor that made housecalls and she was set. Turns out she was anemic, after a 4 days in the hospital, she was running around like spitfire. We had a good time while she was here for the first few months but then had a minor stroke and it went downhill from there. By May, I had visiting nurses come twice a week and by June they were here almost around the clock with grandma passing away on July 11th...she was a good old girl and a frisky 87 year old. During the month of June and July, my mother came to visit and stay. It was a constant load of stress. Grandma and mom don't get along all that well and my mother and I were on each other's last nerve. Came to a turning point when she was on my computer and found a picture of a grown man in diapers sleeping in a crib. (Let's see..how do I explain the expression on my face when she told me... I actually laughed and told her that's what happens when you snoop.) We then went into why and I brough up the abuse and the history and etc. etc. etc. needless to say...that man (stepdad) was the man of her dreams.....she blames me for him having to leave. She wasn't happy about any of it but neither was I. She refuses to take any responsibility for the misfortunes of my childhood. I suffered from panick attacks through the month of September and early Octorber....my mother started the silent treatment the day she left. The only communication I did receive was a thanksgiving email. Still no phone calls... she just refuses to call. I've called 3 times and she is just plainly matter of fact about everything..not the same at all. It's unbelievable to me that I'm not more dysfunctional then I am.......From November to Christmas I was finishing up projects and preparing for the new year of no projects. During this time, I believe I was still quite vulnerable and the "little" in me came running out, a way to relieve the stress, a way to escape. This time, I didn't stuff him back into the closet to hide, I let him run free to explore. I've been exploring for a month now and as you can see from my writings, I'm not quite sure what to do with all the new feelings. I'm not sure if they will grow with the right nurturing touch or if they will feel satisfied and retreat on their own..only popping out when the heart feels that I need it. I just don't know...it would be much easier to solve this entire thing if I already had the answers.
Christmas came and went.... I called on Christmas and we had another argument. I was sitting at my desk and crying most of Christmas while she was having fun and laughing while entertaining friends. It didn't seem fair...we ended up in a heated debate on some issues and that was that...
Well, this past year has taken a toll on me, but tommorow is another day. I apologize to all of you that I have not kept correspondence with or returned a letter for one of your winks. It's not very gracious of me or gentlemanly. I will be sending out all those letters this week. Again, my apologies.
One of the other things to know about me is my love for my cats. Akido and Sumo. You can see Akido in the photo with the Einstein painting. That's actually his room, but he's kind enough to let me use it in exchange for snacks, petting, and a spot on his cat gymnasium. (I don't have another name for the carpet covered sculpture that I built for the cats to play on. 8ft long and 6 ft high 2ft wide....with cubby's, ramps, poles, scratching posts and toys. I rub the entire thing down with catnip once in a while, but then I don't see the cats for a few days until it starts to wear off. Akido likes to sit on my chest while I'm typing, but it's difficult to type. My solution was to take a soft bed pillow and place it on my desk about 6inches from me....He is sleeping...WoooooHoooo He is always climbing on me wanting to cuddle and get pet...and it hurts sometimes when he is stepping all over me, he weighs 19lbs.)....
The next time I'm going to write about the scary things on alt and what I am not looking for. LOL thanks for reading and feel free to leave comments
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Dominant and submissive? or ?
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Posted:Jan 6, 2006 9:05 am
Last Updated:Mar 5, 2006 9:28 pm 9152 Views
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I keep going back to look at what I've written prior and see quite a few holes that I'll fill in later.
Of great importance to me is finding out more about where I stand as far as being submissive or being dominant.
Is it possible that my Dominant side is merely a facade that I've created as a defense mechanism for protection? My first girlfriend was submissive which started me on this track, but I assumed the paternal nurturing role rather then whips and chains. I became the protector, nurturer, and teacher. Now that I've put some serious thought into my prior relationships, isn't it possible that I treated my partners as I wish to be treated? I've been investigating and analyzing the "little" part of me that screams out for nurturing and love and cuddles.
Now, intellectually, I know and understand the importance of psychology when delving into the mind's yearnings. I know about the therapeutic results that can be achieved by experiencing your fantasies. I know that life can be wonderful...but more wonderful with someone to take the journey with that understands you and offers love unconditionally. With all of this understanding, I'm befuddled with my reaction to my own desires. The old fashioned man in me pops out and thinks it's highly undignified to be treated or dressed as a . At times, I feel that it's emasculating and foolish. I donned an outfit that resembled that of a . I bought it on eBay. I looked in the mirror and took it off quicker then I put it on...kicked it into the closet and went for coffee to think things through. Oh, how frustrating....there are other days when the need arises that I will put on a diaper and curl up to fall asleep. The moment that I wake up, I feel guilt, shame, and sometimes embarrassed. Feeling embarrassed is the one that gets me... I'm the only one in the house. It seems to go from one extreme to the other....after the incident, I'll put on my work jeans, flannel shirt and work boots to go work in the yard... or I'll go looking about the galleries...anything to take my mind away from self-persecution. I rationalize and appease my feelings by realizing that it's not a want...it's not a choice...it's the result of traumatic events that happened in the past. Those thoughts offer some condolences, but I'm still left holding the bag.
As I've stated before, I love and believe in the field of psychology. I also believe in the use of counseling, psychologists, and psychiatrists to better learn about yourself and how your mind operates and copes. I've seen all three of the above...but only one regarding the regression issues....she simply stated: "It's ingrained and there is no getting rid of it, you would be best to find an understanding partner." We also dove deeply into the details of my childhood and I had to stop after a time because I was having flashbacks and sleepless nights. My main motivation for going was to see if she could help me with my memory which is shoddy at times...she stated it was more then likely to do with PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). Don't get the wrong idea...I don't forget everything.....picture the absent minded professor; some of my friends have been known to call me that.
Back to submission and the "little me". I think about having a maternal figure, one to put me into childish pajamas because she thinks it's cute. I think about being both the "little me" at times and "Big me" at other times. I'm not sure if I could be the "submissive" all the time. I've never experienced it before, so I'm on the fence at the moment. I think about being cuddled, held, bathed, and yes. Diapered. Sigh....it almost crushes me every time I have to admit that......the fact about being put into a diaper. It just doesn't fit the image on the outside...but it feeds the internal need and rejuvenates me. Usually after I "play" as a ...generally quite brief interludes...I feel rejuvenated and more alive. The "big boy" comes out. Slips on some jeans and goes out to tackle the world. (Ok, at the moment, I'm only tackling the weeds in the front garden, but you get the point)
The Dominant side of me loves every moment. To have someone give that much trust to me, to protect, nurture, and guide. My experiences in my youth could have gone 50/50. I could have ended up a cold and bitter person...but, instead it turned me into a teddy bear that even tries to catch the bugs in the house to let them go back outside. Yes, even the spiders. I am the one that Speaks up very loudly when I see a parent mistreating a . It can become quite a deterrent, when a formidable man of my size inquires into the actions of a misbehaving parent. I generally help those that can't help themselves and I don't think twice before reaching out a helping hand. The protector in me is strong. As a Dominant, I treated my partners with nothing but respect and admiration with lots of cuddles and bubble baths as a perk! I used over the knee spankings, corner time, early to bed and extra chores for misbehavior. Some of them were even diapered at times. The title "Daddy Dom" seemed most appropriate, but not as of late. The submissive side seems to be screaming at the top of his lungs...the latter half of this year was the worst year I've experienced in quite a long time. This internal conflict that I'm having is the main source for my horrible correspondence. I'm just dumbstruck and feeling vulnerable. I want to reach out, but the dominant has protective walls. The next blog entry will talk briefly about this past year and what I've gone through. The "little me" came running out of the closet on Thanksgiving... if you are still reading......then fantastic. I hope you continue with me.
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Adulthood
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Posted:Jan 6, 2006 2:10 am
Last Updated:Mar 5, 2006 9:28 pm 9090 Views
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Well, you're doing well if you have read this far, my compliments to you.
A quick overview before the details. I put myself through college to earn a degree. My tastes run from the mundane to the eclectic. My wardrobe is a fair mixture of Italian suits, Ralph Lauren shirts, jeans and t-shirts. I'm comfortable at a black tie affair tasting caviar and brie or sitting around a campfire cleaning out the fish for cook for dinner. I enjoy attending the theatre and community events as well as canoeing and hiking. My free time has always been spent volunteering or traveling. My addiction is yard sales, flea markets, and estate sales; I'm always looking for a treasure. I've been called frugal but not cheap. I would rather spend money on those that need rather than with what I want. My philanthropy won't be discussed, because I don't do it for recognition, but I feel it's important to help out those less fortunate. I'm an excellent cook and (puffing out masculine chest) a very good baker...oh and gardener. (Just reread most of what I've written and realized that I'm going absolutely everywhere on this log, my apologies for the difficult read)
I failed 10th grade, but earned straight A's in 11th grade. My senior year, I traveled overseas for an exchange program which I paid for myself. I returned to the states to find out they wouldn't let me graduate unless I took 2 more classes. Living on my own and holding a job as well as school seemed impossible, so I took the GED and started college the following term. I don't know at what point I learned that knowledge is power and it's safe to be the one in power because nobody can hurt you. I excelled at college and studied the Pre-med curriculum for 1 1/2 before running out of money, so I joined the Army to go through their medical program. The Army career was cut short after 2 years with a leg injury that put me in the hospital for 10 months. I was in a wheelchair for about a year and then crutches for another year, followed by the use of a cane. Out of the service, I attended University and resumed my pre-med studies with a focus in biology. Unfortunately, I was on too many pain killers and muscle relaxers to focus and retain all that I learned, so I thought it best to find an easier field. The following year, I was accepted into Art School for computer animation and special effects. I earned my BFA in Computer arts in 2000. I managed to keep a 3.98 accumulative GPA during all 7 years of college. While in college, I started a volunteer organization to donate murals to hospitals and clinics, it simply started by someone looking for a volunteer to do a little mural and it grew from there. The last mural that I did this past summer had over 300 volunteers. ...... (Forgot where I was going with this) LOL......
I was, due to my charity work, invited to join a circle of people that helped me to grow into who I am. I bought my first tuxedo when I was 26 and started working with other charities and fundraisers. Black tie events are my favorite because of all the people, the good food, the dancing, and the silent auctions. I'm generally asked several times a year to donate paintings to silent auctions. Oh, I forgot to mention that... although my degree is in computer arts, It turns out that I have some degree of talent for painting. I have a studio here at the house and mostly do Pop Art portraiture or abstract impressionism...
I decided to take a sabbatical from charity work and it's been a month now that I have not had a project in the prep stage, in the works, or written on the calendar. I've been busy working out, walking the beach, studying African art (I've been collecting masks and statues for quite a time now), and researching/prepping for my Master's Degree. I'm almost 99% certain that I'll be going for a degree in psychology. Not that I need the degree for professional reasons, but simply for the knowledge that I will obtain through the process.
(It’s early in the day at 5am and I'm not content with the way this log is sorting itself out, so I'll stop for now. My goal with this log is to let people see who I am beyond the profile, but my words are coming out faster then I can sort them. I wanted to discuss the ramifications of my childhood experience, but I guess that will be in the next log.) Be well and thank you for reading. Ciao
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Childhood
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Posted:Jan 4, 2006 6:50 pm
Last Updated:Mar 5, 2006 9:28 pm 8861 Views
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Well, this certainly isn't going to be very easy. The foundation of who we are is instilled while we mature; my foundation was not given the proper support it needed during my childhood. The memories are scattered and some are fuzzy but I remember enough of them to have bad dreams on occasion. Post Traumatic Stress...as so many like to label it. My stomach turns if I hear yelling or if someone yells at me. I don't believe that yelling is an appropriate form of communication. I feel hurt and my protective walls go up. I'm only going to cover a few samples of what I grew up with, just enough to provide you with a look at my foundation.
My parents divorced when I was 4 and since I was the hyper one, so I was to live with my mom while my two brothers stayed with my dad. I was either 4 or 5 when I was molested by a friend of the family...the details are quite vivid and I'll never forget his face...he was an elderly man from what I remember. Apparently I told someone and he was never allowed to show his face again. Mom married her 2nd husband when I was 5 and he was the source of most of my grief. She stayed married to him until I was 12. Mom says she only knows about some of the stuff but not the majority of what I've revealed. Step dad had the motto " should be seen and not heard” which I heard on many occasions. He had a temper and was an alcoholic. I'm sure that there were many happy times in-between the bad memories. But the good memories seem to be drowned out. The good lasts for the moment but the bad lasts forever. I remember the yellow wiffle ball bat that I use to get hit with. not the flimsy modern day version, but rather a slender version made of harder plastic...it made a whistle as it whisked through the air and it didn't leave bruises from what I remember........I remember always being afraid......hearing the heels of his boots walk down the wooden floors of the hallway to my bedroom. There was the time he grabbed me by the hair and threw me a good 10ft by the time I stopped sliding. He was angry because I walked on the grass in the dead of winter. The grass was covered with snow and it was easier to carry the wood up from the pile if I walked the slope instead of the icy stairs. Then there was the box in the basement where a majority of my toys were kept.......they would be taken away and put in the box...sometimes if I was good, I could pick out one or two to play with. I remember having the neighborhood bully beat me up right in front of him...he just stood there and cheered the fight as a spectator...I remember the potato pit......i just remember the coldness and the darkness of it...he was angry at me for something and wouldn't let me out. (Note: a potato pit is common in New England. It's a small room or cellar that is dug into the earth under a portion of the house accessed by a trap door or hatch. This is where they grow potatoes. I remember being made to go down there...and those horrible black boots as I descended....I remember curling up in the cubby that I had off my room, actually an attic eave that had a small tiny door perfect for a small ....he would have had a very hard time coming in after me. I would sit in the cubby and cry. This is when I learned to escape. I would curl up into a ball and suck my thumb and wish I was in someone else's family. There was the punishment for playing with matches. I had to sit at a table and strike a case of matches in matchbooks one at a time. My fingers were burnt, blistered, and sore by the end. I thought that was enough, I thought it was fair. I was awoken by the boots clicking down the hall...his shadow in the door only in silhouette. He grabbed my foot and dragged me down the stairs to the first floor where he was nice enough to let me get to my feet...I was then roughly escorted into the backyard and made to sit on the log pile. My brand new bicycle was sitting there next to a can of gasoline. He drenched the bike with the gas and set it ablaze. The time I had to stay home from school for a few days because he belted me and caused a severe black eye and cut lip. ....
(Side note: somewhere during this time, I was molested again by a neighbor's 19 year old male cousin. It occurred one night at a sleepover, told my dad and never heard from that guy again...this was between the ages of 7 and 9.)
My mother finally had enough when she caught him with his hands wrapped around my neck and choking me into a metal fence; I was 12. Mom sent me to a safer place...the Florida with my abusive alcoholic father. Short and sweet...he expressed himself with fists, punches, and kicking. He died when I was 15 and I moved back with my mother. My oldest brother committed suicide the same year. I was again molested my a man that befriended me as a Paternal figure, this unfortunately was a repeated event and continued for some time. Again molested at the age of 15 by the Leader and Founder of the Christian Disabled Group that I volunteered with, which also was repeated until I came to my senses.....The experiences that I've had made me homophobic as all the men that molested me were gay. You can imagine how horrified I was to hear my brother announce that he is "Gay". That was when I was 18. It threw me for a shock. I've grown since then and some of my best friends are homesexual...both genders. Well, that's enough of that ...it's enough to give insight without getting into too much detail. People wouldn't believe the horrors I experienced, even those that know me well. I'm a very generous, open hearted, teddy bear that appears to come out of it all fairly well adjusted. There is more, but I'm tired from churning up all these thoughts. It can be draining. This is the basis for my need and yearning...the nurturing. It's something that I crave and something that I need. There is no sure fire definition for "nurturing", but it can take on many forms. Things changed for me in 11th grade and have only gotten better since. The next blog entry will be about whom I am now and what lasting effects I'm left with as a result of my youth. I hope you continue to read...to see that all sad stories don't always end up sad.
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Who Am I ?
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Posted:Jan 3, 2006 7:49 am
Last Updated:Jan 10, 2021 8:09 pm 11008 Views
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A brief overview of myself is that I'm 36, a painter/sculptor and entrepeneur. Well educated, open minded and with a huge teddy bear persona. I enjoy culture including theatre, ballet and the gallery circuit. My hobbies include the outdoors, the arts, and african antiquities. I've spent the past ten years investing my time in community service and running a non-profit of my own. The new year brings with it a time for me to invest in myself. I believe in carrying bags for a woman, opening doors, and other things that a lady should expect. Not because it's submissive, but rather because it's a man's right to do it. I like to consider myself an old fashioned gentleman that also believes that knowledge is power. I value an education and all that it brings with it. I also confess a love for writing. Writing helps to calm the mind when thoughts tend to flurry. I hope you stay and read. I just found these blogs and found it to be the perfect solution to my present problem. I have been getting winks and notes for the past month and can't find the words to express myself. When writing to someone, how do you write enough to share yourself so that you are being fair with the person and know when the point is that you have shared too much. There is a proper way to court by popular opinion. To find your partner and let them fall in love with you..the person...first and foremost...then let them know slowly know about your interests and fetishes. The ideas of the deviances becomes less frightening because you already know the person and do it out of love. Is it fair to hide it in the beginning? What if your experiences have shown that most will not bother getting to know the person after realizing the fetish. (side note: I don't bother with semantics or being politically correct when I write. I believe most often in stream of consciousness writing where the thoughts are free to come out without regards to puncuation or grammatical correctness. The importance here is the expression of thought and not any type of literary review. end side note) My thoughts are all over recently, and I'll try to form them into a fluid history. I want to find someone that knows my history and my present ...someone that knows who I am and what I'm about...someone that can be realistic and can see the good in someone despite his faults. This blog will be at the least, a good read. An insight into another's life. Some will start the read and become disinterested, some will click the window closed further down....some might not like that I'm overly analytical or philosophical...some might not like that fact that I cry....That's ok...I'm not looking for those people. I'm looking for the one that can read it through to the end because she has that compassion and interest in knowing someone more intimately then a general profile.
I've had a fear of revealing myself and sharing freely, but the time has come to be free. I was worried about not finding someone that would understand if I revealed myself, but that in itself is illogical. I surely can't be understood if I don't share it with someone. I think this might qualify as one of those "Damned if you do and Damned if you don't" moments. I'll start with a brief history of childhood without too many details and then into who I am today. As much as I loathe my childhood, it has molded me into the person I am ...the good and the bad. That's the introduction..... continue on to the next entry if you wish to read further..
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